


A BLU Trophy

by Galionne



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Abuse, Female!BLU Pyro, Human trade, Humiliation, M/M, Male!RED Pyro, Maskless!Pyros, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soldier Abuse, Sollycest, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4159998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galionne/pseuds/Galionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Hooper's life as a Soldier working for the Builder's League United had been a hard one. He couldn't shoot targets right because of his mutilated eye which caused him to be constantly belittled by his own colleagues. He was being seen as a traitor for the relationship he had had with the RED Demoman. He was being insulted, beaten and humiliated on a daily basis. But this life at BLU was nothing compared to the one he was going to live now, as the RED's personal plaything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A BLU Trophy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry about the typos and half-assed sentences you might find; I'm posting this quite late when I should be studying so I didn't havemuch time to proof-read it... BUT I'll update this with a better version as soon as I can! Also, thanks a lot to the-king-that-i-was on Tumblr for helping me find a suitable name for the BLU Soldier!

“Bloody goddamn wind…”

The RED Sniper watched warily as the blue truck began to slowly make its way up the slope, headlights turned off despite the growing obscurity. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed tiredly, looking down at the BLU base down below. Heavy had parked their truck just at the top of a hill which was sandwiched between their base and that of their enemies and overlooked the entire city of Teufort. It could have been a nice place for hiking, if it wasn’t for the howling wind and unbearable cold one would have to deal with once at the top. With a shiver he pulled his jacket tighter around himself and turned to his left when he heard a familiar clicking sound and a soft groan of irritation. His team’s Spy was desperately trying to light himself a cigarette; however it seemed every attempt at getting his lighter to produce even the smallest flame was immediately cut short by the raging wind, even with his hand trying to block it out. Sniper took off his beloved hat and carefully held it above the Frenchman’s hands.

“Ah, _Merci_.” Spy said as he finally managed to keep a small flame ablaze long enough to light his cigarette.

The Australian put his hat back on his head as the rogue took a long, well-awaited drag of nicotine. With another shiver Sniper looked to Spy’s left, where Heavy stood. The large Russian didn’t seem at all bothered by the cold, even if he was only wearing a thin jacket to keep himself warm. The almost naked, gagged and bound BLU Spy hoisted over his shoulder on the other hand was looking a lot more distressed. His lips were beginning to turn blue from the cold and he was shaking and trembling like a leaf, despite his best attempts at pulling a straight face.

The RED Team had captured the rogue after finding him sneaking around their base and had then decided to keep him captive for some time in order to interrogate him. At the time they thought they could have maybe gotten something out of him; secret information; locations… _Something_. But it quickly turned out that either the man didn’t know anything or, most likely, he was _extremely_ well trained at keeping his mouth shut. Either way, the REDs had come to the realization that they wouldn’t be able to get any information out of him, and that _infuriated_ them. They hadn’t spent _weeks_ trying to find newer, better interrogation techniques and torture methods just to end up with this load of _useless crap_ ofa Spy!But if he couldn’t provide them with useful information, then there was something else he could at least provide them with: a personal plaything. For almost a month now they had been using and torturing him as they pleased in ways that would make even the sickest psychopathic serial killer cringe and had, of course, taken great pleasure in letting the BLU team know all about the horrors their French ‘Froggy’ was going through.

But now, playtime was over.

The blue truck began to slow down, rocking from side to side a little as gravel crunched beneath its large tires before finally stopping just a few meters away from the REDs. The BLU Medic stepped out of the passenger side and glanced around nervously as he approached. The BLU Pyro meanwhile had stepped out from the driver’s side, arms crossed. The pair were both in combat gear however the fire-lover had taken off her gasmask and held it tightly in her left hand. She eyed the three REDs suspiciously, clicking her tongue and leaning back against the truck as the RED Spy walked over to welcome Medic.

“-Greetings, _Docteur_ …,the Frenchman said with a smirk as he shook the German’s hand politely, Not a very welcoming weather, don’t you think?

-I am not here to play games, _Herr_ Spy and you know it. Just give us our Spy back and we will leave.

-But of course!, the man exclaimed almost excitedly, However you know this will not be free, _n’est ce pas_? I do hope you have brought us something of great value in exchange for this… Rather lovely plaything.”

The captive let out a low groan and shifted uncomfortably, trying to look back at the German. Medic didn’t answer and instead slowly turned towards his team’s Pyro. The firebug quietly nodded and went to the back of the blue truck, flinging the two backdoors open and stepping inside. She walked out a handful of seconds later carrying an unconscious man over her shoulder. He seemed to be in his early or mid-thirties and was wearing a pair of thick leather boots, dark fatigues and a light blue jacket. He was tightly bound with electrical cord and gagged with a thick piece of cloth which had been stuffed into his mouth and was soaked with drool and what could possibly be blood. He had short black hair, a square jaw; large shoulders and a broad chest complete with muscular arms and legs. The Pyro walked over to the small group, looking straight at the BLU Spy as she did and unceremoniously tossed the unconscious man at the RED Spy’s feet.

“Your Soldier, hm? I see…”

The Frenchman bent down and began examining the BLU Soldier carefully. He wasn’t too surprised to see BLU had decided to sacrifice him in order to get their Spy back. After all and to speak the truth, his ‘exploits’ on the battlefield were mediocre at best. Compared to his RED counterpart the man seriously lacked in speed, precision and even stamina and was, if anything, probably just a burden for the BLU Team. Besides he and the RED Demoman had been in a relationship by the past (no one was sure what kind exactly) and despite his later attempts at killing the man to redeem himself (and also not be executed by his employer’s other agents) his team still considered him a traitor –despite RED having long since forgiven their demolition man. Spy took another drag from his cigarette and began inspecting his neck and face. The man had a small red spot in his neck similar to one a needle would leave; probably where he had been injected with tranquilizer. He pushed the eyelids open on his right eye and almost gasped when he was met with a gruesomely deformed green iris and a bloodshot, inflamed sclera.

“-What the hell?!, the RED Sniper exclaimed as he looked down with concern at the deformed eye.

-Yeah, his right eye is kinda fucked up, the BLU Pyro grunted with a thick Indian accent, But he’s healthy otherwise.

-‘Healthy otherwise’…, the Spy mumbled, But still blind in one eye…

-He won’t need both eyes for the kind of… ‘ _Rituals’_ , you apparently put your captives through…” Medic groaned, having heard enough already.

As he spoke the German carefully observed the BLU Spy’s beaten and bruised body, clenching his teeth in anger. The other Frenchman smirked at the remark.

“I like the way you think…” he said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of dark malice.

He got up and shot the two BLUs a smile. Then he turned to Heavy.

“This one will do, he smirked, You can give them their precious Spy back.”

Heavy nodded and grabbed the man on his shoulder, bringing him down in his arms before tossing him towards the two BLUs in front of him. The Pyro caught him just before his head hit the ground and carefully pulled him up to his feet. Medic didn’t say a word, instead pulling his long coat open and fumbling through his large inside pockets before pulling out a small file and handing it over to the RED Spy.

“-I believe you might want this..., the doctor muttered under his breath, It’s his identity file.

-I see you’ve planned everything out already. Good…”

Spy took the file and signed for Heavy to grab the BLU Soldier. He watched as the Russian giant dragged him to the back of the truck with Sniper’s help and as they shoved the Soldier inside. With yet another smile he extended his hand towards the BLU Medic who shook it politely –barely able to contain his boiling hatred for the RED.

“-It was pleasure doing business with you, he said softly, I hope we meet again soon.

-Fuck you…” Pyro muttered under her breath.

The RED Spy ignored her and silently returned to the truck. She was about to yell at him for ‘ _being a filthy coward and a manipulative little fuck_!’ but Medic simply pulled her away and dragged her and Spy back to their blue truck.

“-It’s no use Chandra, he said as he opened the driver door, Let’s just… Return to the base. We’ll talk about this later. For now Christian needs to rest.

-…Yeah… Alright…”

The firebug exhaled deeply and carefully helped Spy into the truck. The beaten up Frenchman sat in the middle, groaning in pain as he felt his aching muscles tense under his skin. Pyro sat to his left behind the wheel while Medic sat to his right. The German searched inside the glove compartment and pulled out a hunting knife which he used to cut Spy’s restraints, freeing the Frenchman’s sore arms at last. With a soft sigh Christian leaned forwards, pressing his elbows on his knees and taking his face in his own hands. The air felt cool on his skin and he shivered, involuntarily pressing himself more against the BLU Medic’s form.

“I thought this moment would never come…” he said quietly, the shudder perfectly audible in his voice.

He felt a gentle pat on his left shoulder as well as the gentle brush of fabric against his skin as Alexander took off his white lab coat to wrap it over his shaking form. The German pulled a small carton paquet out of his shirt pocket and extracted a single cigarette from it.

“Here.”

He gently pressed it between Christian’s lips who softly smiled in return, turning towards Chandra as he heard the familiar clicking sound of her favorite zippo. The small, trembling flame set the end of the tobacco roll ablaze and he took a long drag from it, blowing out smoke through his nose. He smiled contently, closing his eyes as he relaxed. He was free, at last. Now, he was going to go back to the BLU base. See all of his colleagues again. Take a long, warm bath. Put on some clean clothes. Lie under the medigun in the medbay for a while. And then just go back to his normal life of sneaking and back stabbing.

The nightmare was fucking over; it was _over_! He was free! Small tears formed in his eyes as he let the realization sink in and he felt Alexander hug him close, a smile spreading the Frenchman’s lips as Chandra began gently rubbing his arm in comfort.

The trio drove home in silence, relieved, happy and comforted and without speaking a word about Miles Hooper, the 34 year old Midwesterner they had just abandoned to a dark and cruel fate.


End file.
